


Legacy

by Mooselk



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Non-Consensual Drug Use, hakuryuu village has issues, ritual self harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-24 01:13:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7487586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mooselk/pseuds/Mooselk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The life of the final Hakuryuu to spend his life hopelessly waiting for the return of the king.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> There have been some things bugging me about Hakuryuu village for a while so I decided to explore them through Hakupapa.

His predecessor is a constant light on his periphery. When, as a very young child, he would run and hide from his tutors, Hakuryuu would look up and see him standing in his window, motionless, eyes fixed on some distant point. The sun glinted off of silver-white hair and white linen robes, illuminating the figure against the dark red wood of the interior of his room. Even though he never once looked down at him, Hakuryuu always felt as though the blinding figure in the window saw into his soul and found him lacking.

They did not speak. His predecessor had not left his tower in months- he was sickly, Granny told Hakuryuu as she brushed his hair, always had been and now… She would trail off and the mixed fondness of her tone and the sadness in her eyes made something deep within Hakuryuu twist in an ugly way. Many villagers had stories about their interactions with the previous Hakuryuu, smiling again in that way and nodding up at the predecessor’s tower.

"He had once used his claws to lift half of a collapsed hut off of a group of scared children," recounted one woman, starry-eyed in remembrance. Hakuryuu felt the same ugly twist and flexed his claws instinctively – _his_ now, not his predecessors’.

Even when Hakuryuu closed his eyes, his predecessor shone on, a white light, slowly and steadily fading as time passed.

 Their only interaction occurred two weeks before the man’s death. Hakuryuu had fled his tutors once again and gone down to the river to practice slicing at rocks with his dragon claws. He was not allowed to practice this way in the village training grounds yet. According to the weapon masters, he was not old enough to control his claw in such a way that the soft humans around him would not be hurt. But how would he serve the king if he did not know how to use his own gift?

 Standing by the river, he stared at his claws, each one long and sharp and perfect. He flexed them and _pushed_. A sudden current ran through his entire body, dark and electrifying, and with a gasp he released his power and fell to his knees by the riverbank, panting.

When he opened his eyes, there was another face reflected above his in the clear water. Startled, he whirled, slashing instinctively towards the stranger. _Intruder!_ No one from the village would dare approach him without announcing themselves!

Before his claws could tear into the intruder’s flesh, his hand was grabbed, stopped, forced down. No one _ever_ touched the dragon arm. Hakuryuu had harbored secret thoughts of it smiting anyone who tried. His heart pounding in his chest, he looked up into the serene face of his predecessor.

Up close, the predecessor looked tired. There were deep bags under his eyes and his cheeks were sallow and sunken. There was something about his gaze that put Hakuryuu on edge, and he quickly scrambled back to his feet, breathing hard and glowering.

“Be careful, little dragon,” the predecessor said, meeting Hakuryuu’s eyes with an air of complete nonchalance. “Using the dragon claws frivolously is a sin against the gods…”

Hakuryuu went even paler with rage. When Granny taught him about his claws, about the rites and traditions, he could bear it, despite his heart clamoring for him to _rise, the king the king, train you must be ready for the king_. Granny was like a deep pool of wisdom and calmness. Her familiar voice would soothe the constant longing that itched in Hakuryuu’s fingers. Besides, Granny knew the will of the gods. She herself had praised him for his dedicated training. But to hear his predecessor deprecate it as a frivolity…! What did _he_ know?

“They’re _my_ claws! I must be strong so King Hiryuu will come for me. I can’t be weak…then the king will just forget about me, like he did about you!”

The predecessor was silent for a long moment and Hakuryuu wanted to cover his mouth with his hand. Why did he say that? The predecessor may have looked tired but he had longer claws than Hakuryuu and was tall, the top of his head brushing the bottom branches of the wisteria tree growing by the bank. Hakuryuu looked around for a potential escape route: they were right by the bank so maybe if he ran…

“What do you know about _my_ predecessor, little dragon?” The predecessor did not sound angry at all, or even upset. His voice was as carelessly quiet as it had been before.

Hakuryuu stared at him for a moment. Perhaps the predecessor had not heard him. He was supposed to be ill, after all. The predecessor seemed to be expecting an answer though, and Hakuryuu would not test his luck again.

He spoke the truth, “Nothing.”

“Nothing,” the predecessor agreed. “I know that he was tall, and strong, and intimidating. He died when I was very young, younger than you are now. I don’t know anything more about him. And I know nothing about _his_ predecessor.”

“What does this have to do with my claws, Lord Predecessor?” Hakuryuu asked. He tried to sound politely disinterested but in truth he was curious, and a little apprehensive, about where this conversation was heading.

“You are Hakuryuu, just as I was, just as my predecessor and his predecessor were. Just as your successor will be. We are all…conflated into Hakuryuu, even though I am nothing like my predecessor and you are nothing like me. But who will know that in twenty years, when I am long dead and buried?”

His voice was getting louder and louder. Spooked, Hakuryuu took a step back, his foot landing in the water and soaking his pant leg. There was a wild light in the predecessor’s eyes. Hakuryuu squeaked when the man lunged forward and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“I am no better than the ones before. I didn’t even give you a name, little dragon. I am sorry for that. But my time is almost out and it is too late for both of us. You will have to fix the mistake that we have made. When your successor is born, make sure to name him at least. Don’t let him fade into obscurity with the rest of us.”

Hakuryuu nodded quickly - anything to get out of the crushing grip of the dragon arm - and fell backwards into the river with a splash as he was abruptly released. His mind whirled and he felt his dragon arm curl into a fist, the claws digging into his palm.

The predecessor meanwhile tripped back onto the bank, rubbing his head. Hakuryuu stole a careful glance at him, not daring to rise out of the water. His eyes had lost their wild glow. He twitched and muttered something to the air next to him, seeming just a sick, frail man again. Hakuryuu resolved to follow him back to his tower, despite his shaking knees. _It would be disgraceful for a former dragon to die from tripping over a rock by the river_ , he reasoned to himself, trying to explain away the sudden familial worry for this stranger.

As the predecessor made his way through camp, speaking to thin air and flinching at shadows, Hakuryuu was struck with the sour thought that the predecessor needed not worry about being forgotten. Judging by the star-struck faces of the villagers, he would be remembered for a while yet. But then, a shiver ran down Hakuryuu’s spine. All that his kind, worldly predecessor had done lived in the memories of the villagers. Once they died, he really would sink into obscurity. And if the previous Hakuryuu, the shining star of the village’s stories, would be forgotten, what about Hakuryuu himself, who had made no friends, who was worshipped only for his hand?

_No,_ Hakuryuu thought, shaking his head, _No, the king will come for me. That will be my legacy. It must be._

The predecessor returned to his tower and never left it again. His light steadily faded, and one morning Hakuryuu woke up with the certainty that it was the predecessor’s final day in this world. And yet, even with the predecessor’s light faded almost to nothing, Hakuryuu still could not outshine him.


	2. Today

Hakuryuu heard the whispers clearly for the first time on the night of his seventeenth birthday. Watching the preparations for the festival from his window earlier, Hakuryuu had commented that while it was bothersome to sit still for several hours and try to be polite to villagers, he was looking forward to the dragon dance, if only to see the all those beautiful girls dancing for him. Granny, upon hearing this, had lit up like a candle and told him that he need only choose the girls he wished and the wedding could be prepared within the month.

In truth, Hakuryuu didn’t think much about marriage. It was irrelevant to his devotion to the king. If it would please Granny, it must please the gods too, and the girls were very beautiful. Besides, as Hakuryuu, marriage was his duty. Starting from his sixteenth birthday, no villager could wed before Hakuryuu had taken his first bride. He decided that he would not keep his village waiting. He would find a wife tonight. His decision made, he turned his full attention back to the complicated ceremonial robes being draped over him. He needed to take care to keep his dragon arm extended and his fingers curled to avoid cutting the expensive fabric or the attendants while they dressed him like a large doll.

Rows and rows of heavy necklaces wound around his neck and shoulders, the gleaming stones and bear claws clicking against one another as he shifted uncomfortably. The first part of the festival was his least favourite by far. The attendants jumped a pace away as he flexed his fingers automatically. He could feel Granny’s recriminatory gaze on the back of his neck for his lack of control. Hauryuu flushed and stayed especially still after that.

Once dressed, he was shuffled out of the tower, keeping his head as straight as he could on the stairs so as to not upset the precariously balanced headdress. He could hear the villagers already. As he appeared, they all went reverently silent and remained that way for the duration of his short but immensely difficult walk across the clearing to the shrine.

His heart sped up as one of the priests appeared with the small urn. This was not Hakuryuu’s first full ceremony, but it did not stop him from dreading this moment. He took a deep breath, focused on Granny’s solemn face at the front of the crowd, and sliced his wrist open with the claw of his middle finger. Dark red liquid dripped into the urn and Hakuryuu made an effort to ignore the sharp pain. It would soon be over. The blood of Hakuryuu was strongest on the day of his birth, so it needed to be collected now, according to tradition. It could then be used in rituals for the rest of the year.

As the priest spoke the necessary words, an attendant hurried over with some salve, smoothing it over the jagged cut and tying a piece of clean linen around it. The salve worked wonders, or perhaps it was the power of the dragon. The cuts from previous years had faded away completely, indiscernible from the scales that covered Hakuryuu’s arm.

Now, Hakuryuu was led to the back of the shrine and disrobed –which always somehow took far less time than putting the damn clothing on – before being herded to his place on the grass amongst the villagers. They would feast, and then the dragon dance would begin. Hakuryuu stuffed an entire pastry in his mouth. These were his favourite, the little egg custard tarts. They were almost worth the weakness that came post blood-sacrifice.

While he had been lost in the land of egg tart appreciation, the dance had been set up. The girls stood in position, sheer scarves draped over their arms and identical smirks on their faces. A single drum took up a rhythm and they moved, perfectly in synch, weaving spirals up and down the fire lit clearing as the music gained energy.

Hakuryuu focused his gaze above the shimmering scarves, trying to discern the faces of the dancers. The girls, however, stared at a point above his head, with wide, empty smiles on their faces, clearly focusing on the complicated footwork.

He drank deeply into his wine as the girls twirled in a circle closer and closer to him. He tried to focus on their faces, looking for anyone familiar, but it was as if a veil had settled over his vision. A peculiar noise was rising in his ears, almost like whispering. If he concentrated, he heard the word “ _no”_ repeated, as if by many voices.

A singular drum beat ended the dance, with the dancers arranged around him in a spiral. They watched him expectantly, and he could see Granny’s eyes glittering in anticipation. Hakuryuu suddenly recalled his resolution from earlier. He looked around quickly, and found that he recognized a dancer standing by his left shoulder as one of the head historian’s daughters. He had vague recollections of interaction with her in the past, nothing distinct, but the silence was growing longer and heavier, so he threw hesitation to the winds and held his dragon arm out to her.

A cheer went up among the villagers as she placed her hand in his, grinning wildly. The other dancers bowed to them both, a couple throwing words of congratulations to the chosen girl, more than a few faces showing bitter disappointment. Hakuryuu looked at the face of his newly-chosen bride and tried to ignore the hammering of his heart and the faint, whispering sound of laughter in his ears.

The marriage was set to be at the end of the month. There were countless rituals to be completed: this was Hakuryuu’s first marriage after all. The proper offerings needed to be made to the Gods, the proper texts learned. In between all the commotion, Hakuryuu had some time to spend with the historian’s daughter.

He found that her presence was tolerable, if not pleasant. She was not Granny- there was no one around whom he felt as safe and relaxed as he did around Granny- but she was gracious and accommodating to all of Hakuryuu’s moods. In the end, that was all that was required of the bride of Hakuryuu. It was not as if they would spend their married lives joined at the hip. But with their marriage, the rest of the village too could return to marital activities. On the night of the Dragon Festival, several very drunk villagers had almost cried with thankfulness at Hakuryuu’s feet.

By the time it came time for the actual wedding, the whole village had pulled out all the stops. The wedding feast was nearly as extravagant as it would have been for his birthday. No extensive finery was required on his part, however, a fact for which Hakuryuu was thankful. He was not the center of this celebration, after all. Weddings were a time to celebrate the bride of Hakuryuu.

Hakuryuu glanced over to the historian’s daughter. She was resplendent in her many layered white robes, flower garlands hanging around her neck. She was graciously accepting congratulations from villagers, and talking politely with Granny, who sat on her litter next to her. The other Dragon Dancers milled around her, bidding her farewell. It was the last night she could truly be one of them. She was moving up in the world.

Hakuryuu himself spent most of the evening blessing unions. Since it was his wedding night, all the women who had longed for the last two years for a child came to him with tearful thanks. He listened to their words carefully, nodding and giving his blessings to each. It was his duty.

In truth, however, he had felt unbalanced all evening, duller, as if someone had stuffed his ears with wool. He thought several times that he heard whispers in his ear, but every time, when he turned to look, there would be no one there. It was seriously unnerving, but perhaps it was just the ceremony getting to him. The feasting had been going on since noon.

It was over, though, far more quickly than he had expected. Before he knew it, he found himself in his rooms with her. The dancers who had bustled them in grinned at both of them encouragingly, and Granny, carried by four of them, wiped a proud tear from her eye.

And then they were alone. She had been divested of her formal robes, now remaining in only a shift. Hakuryuu hesitated, suddenly unsure. It occurred to him that he had no idea what he was supposed to do. He had never been trained for anything like this. So he stood there, silently, awkwardly, avoiding her eyes.

The historian’s daughter smiled widely at him, and padded towards him with soundless steps. She wound her long arms around his neck and stroked his hair, shaking it free from its tie.

“It’s so soft,” she murmured, voice low and husky. “You’re really beautiful, Lord Hakuryuu.”

Then, she leaned forward and kissed him.

After the first moment of shock, Hakuryuu realized that the kiss actually felt pretty good. She tasted nice and she was soft and warm. Instinctively, Hakuryuu raised his human hand to the nape of her neck, deepening the kiss.

He could get used to this, he thought hazily, as she sat on the bed, pulling him down with her. These feelings were like nothing he had experienced before. He understood now, the drunken villagers. His abstinence had been depriving them of _this_. All those would-be mothers he had blessed today…

Then, a whisper in his ear. _Mothers…waiting, just like your wife will be after tonight, for a child._ A cold hand closed over Hakuryuu’s heart and he froze. He did not mind children; it would not be him who had to deal with any of his offspring but…what if that child became the next Hakuryuu?

“What’s wrong?” murmured the girl, picking up on his sudden, unnatural stillness. She watched him with heavily lidded eyes from the bed. Panic swept through Hakuryuu and he rose, stumbling back.

“I-this was a mistake, I am sorry, I must not – I can’t- I…” he stammered out, all his arousal fleeing from him to be replaced by fear. His pulse hammered wildly in his ears.

The girl did not seem surprised, just sighing delicately and rising from the bed. She walked over to him and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, no longer the sultry image of just moments before.

“Hush, Lord Hakuryuu. It’s alright. Just breathe. Wait here a moment, I’ll bring you a drink.”

He barely heard her footsteps recede over the sudden wailing of the whispers around him – _no no no not for the king do not waste time no the king no..!_

“Who are you?” he cried, “What do you want?!” The whispers did not recede, seeming to come from all around him.

“Lord Hakuryuu..?” the girl had returned, speaking in a blessedly full bodied voice. She carried a porcelain cup three-quarters full of clear liquid. He grabbed it and downed it in one gulp, breathing heavily. It tasted oddly sweet…

A sharp pain shot through his head and he clutched it, falling to one knee. He was _burning-_ and then he opened his eyes to the most beautiful vision he had ever seen. Her hair was pale as the winter sun on ice, and her eyes endlessly gray. He gazed into them, losing himself in their endless depths, falling deeper and deeper in…..

…and awoke in his bed, the familiar curtains and trappings of his room familiar and undisturbed.

“Ah, awake, Lord Hakuryuu?” said Granny’s acerbic voice.

His head throbbed. Hakuryuu sat up slowly, wincing at the light.

“What—what happened?”

“You had a bit too much to drink on the eve of your wedding, Lord Hakuryuu.”

 _She lies…_ came a whisper in his ear and he flinched slightly, pressing his left hand to his temple. He shook his head and shakily got to his feet, Granny watching him closely as he stumbled across the room. The last night was fuzzy and fragmented.

“My wife?” he croaked, suddenly filled with dread.

“Oh, it is her time to gossip with the village women, as a new bride. You should not bother her.”

Hakuryuu nodded, relieved. He did not want to see her right then: even the thought of her made a cold feeling to slide down his spine. She was a distraction from his cause, that must be it. He was much better off up here, with Granny, where he could focus on preparing for the arrival of the king. Why did he ever think getting married this early was a good idea?

Nine months later, Hakuryuu’s first daughter was born. When he heard her first wails, he barricaded himself in his tower and yelled into his pillow to drown out the sudden influx of voices. _Not yet, not this one,_ they whispered, jeering, _inconsequential, human…but soon…soon…a new dragon to wait for the king…._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There definitely has to be a reason the Hakuryuu scale "love potion" existed, after all :)


End file.
